


Other Holidays

by fadedink



Series: Days of Christmas - 2013 [26]
Category: Lord of the Rings RPF, Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-27
Updated: 2013-12-27
Packaged: 2018-01-06 07:24:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1104051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadedink/pseuds/fadedink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Orlando makes a decision, Katie questions it a LOT, and Karl is still trying to figure out what he did wrong in a previous life to deserve all this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Other Holidays

**Author's Note:**

> 26th Day of Christmas for [giselleslash](http://giselleslash.livejournal.com), who is one of possibly 3 (maybe 4) people who could actually get me to write this fic. I'm going to hell, y'all.

Where's the tree, is the first thing out of Katie's mouth when she walks into the living room. It's quickly followed by, wait, where's everything.

Karl doesn't move a muscle. He just keeps his eyes glued to the cookbook in his hands.

There's silence. Followed by more silence. And even _more_ silence.

It's far too much silence for Karl's peace of mind.

Orlando'sdecidedwe'recelebratingKwanzaathisyear.

Beg pardon? He doesn't need to look up to know her eyes are shooting flames. In fact, there are probably flames wreathing her head. That whole flaming skull thing. Face it, Ghost Rider has nothing on Katie when she uses that tone of voice.

Kwanzaa, Karl repeats into his cookbook. Orlando. I don't know.

I see.

Karl hunches up and jerks the cookbook higher. Maybe if he stares at it long enough, he can memorize this lemon blueberry scone recipe.

*

Oi, why'd you –

Karl, tell him that he can't –

Shut it, chicken legs, I'm trying to –

You did not just call me –

I did and what're you, ow!

Karl adds more cranberries to the batter and ignores the wounded look Orlando throws in his direction. The fact that it allows him to ignore Katie's completely horrified and disgusted look is just an added bonus.

*

I did my research is what Orlando says, burrowing under the blankets and peering over Karl's ribs at Katie.

That doesn't change the fact that you can't _do_ that, she tells him, all sharp elbows and knees against Karl as she flounces around on the bed.

I'm trying to _learn_ , Orlando throws back at her, and he deserves an Oscar for the pitiful quaver he puts in his voice. Karl keeps that thought to himself.

Katie mutters something that sounds like cultural appropriation. That earns her a pillow to the face as Orlando shrieks that he's trying to educate himself in an effort to be more aware and accepting of the world around him.

Unfortunately for Karl, he's trapped in the middle. He's not entirely convinced they didn't plan this. Together.

He just closes his eyes and thinks about what he can make for breakfast. Belgian waffles. Or maybe a Spanish frittata.

*

I hate her, Orlando sulks as he curls up in the corner of the sofa.

You don't, Karl assures him, eyeing the patch of hair just over Orlando's left temple. It looks...balder than before. He doesn't mention it.

I don't. Orlando sighs, curls tighter until he's a little ball of dark curls, big eyes, and wounded dignity.

Karl tells himself he's not going to give in even as he scoots across the sofa to tug Orlando against his side.

She thinks I'm being a, a –

She doesn't is all Karl says as he rests his chin on top of Orlando's head. Then he offers to show Orlando how to make peanut butter fudge.

The fact that it's Katie's favorite has nothing to do with anything.

*

So, it's not the _worst_ idea you've had, Katie finally admits, but she doesn't look at Orlando as she says it.

Armed with the fudge and an entire _notebook_ full of computer print outs and scribbled notes on the history of Kwanzaa, Orlando had tackled her after lunch. The fact she's willing to admit that much is enough to make Karl breathe a little easier.

Just a little, though.

After all, he was the one subjected to the whole Katie-as-Ghost-Rider thing. He may never forgive Orlando for that.

But Karl doesn't mention that. He just hums to himself as he flips through all of his new cookbooks (Christmas presents from Orlando _and_ Katie, plus the one really odd one from Viggo that Karl was still eyeing sideways) and puts together a menu for New Year's Eve.


End file.
